


Excuses, Excuses

by jellybeanforest



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, POTS Stony Stocking, Terrible Excuses, the morning after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellybeanforest/pseuds/jellybeanforest
Summary: In Tony’s defense, he hasn’t had his morning coffee yet.For JehBeeEh who prompted “The AI ate my homework” for the POTS Stony Stocking 2020.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 61
Collections: POTS (18+) Stony Stocking 2020





	Excuses, Excuses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JehBeeEh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JehBeeEh/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [JehBeeEh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JehBeeEh/pseuds/JehBeeEh) in the [stony_stocking_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/stony_stocking_2020) collection. 



The first thing Tony notices are the sheets near his face. They’re a polyester blend, and the thread count is so low, it should be criminal. They feel distinctly uncomfortable, borderline scratchy against his skin, and though it might be psychosomatic, he thinks he might break out in hives any minute due to the subpar nature of the bedding.

His nose crinkles. The entire room smells musky and muggy, like sex. There’s a stale taste in his mouth. Also sex. Not to mention a tacky, almost grimy film over his skin that’s… Okay, yes, he had clearly had a night.

Tony rolls onto his back, blinking against the light filtering in from around the cheap metal blinds that failed to fully cover the window along the edges. He can’t help but notice that the ceiling is also lower than optimal, and… and is that popcorn texture?

_Ugh._

For a man with an undeniably artistic eye, Steve sure had crummy taste in apartments. Tony decides then and there that Steve doesn’t get to have an opinion on the aesthetics of Stark (now Avengers) Tower if this is how he chooses to live.

Beside him, Steve mumbles and flips over to face his direction, his arm loose over Tony’s midsection and nose pushed into Tony’s shoulder. He smacks his lips and settles, his face sleep-soft and hair mussed, stuck up and flattened to one side. His legs are tangled in the sheets that Tony can now see are stained with lube and other less-savory body fluids. Tony would love to stay, have a lie-in, but–

He turns to the nightstand, only to find Steve’s shirt hanging off-kilter from the lamp shade and his alarm clock missing. He carefully extracts himself from Steve’s hold, wiggling towards the edge of the bed to find the floor in shambles. There’s an explosion of clothing everywhere, Steve’s toy box has been opened and upended – various items, plugs and dildos and massage oils spilled out on the rug – and in the midst of it all lay Steve’s alarm clock, which must have gotten unplugged in last night's kerfuffle.

_Fuck._

Tony nearly rolls off the bed with a soft thump, rooting around the mess until he locates his watch under Steve’s pants. He flips it over, nearly having a heart attack when he reads 7:43am. There’s no time for stealth, no time for slipping out the morning after with a cute calling card, strategically leaving the next move to Steve. No time for any of that.

Pepper is going to kill him.

He races around the room, tossing aside butt plugs, the broken halves of handcuffs, and Steve’s other belongings, trying to locate his clothes, his phone. Happy knows the schedule; he might be waiting downstairs already and calculating just how fast he’d have to speed to get downtown in time for SI's board meeting. Tony finds his pants, but not his underwear (before remembering he didn’t wear any last night), and swears as he pulls them on, nearly falling over in his expediency. He’s already pulling Steve’s shirt off the lampshade to wear when Steve yawns, stretches to crack his back, then cool and frustratingly calm, tries to coax him back, “Where are you going in such a hurry? Why don’t you come back to bed, sweetheart?”

“Are you insane? I’m already late for my meeting with the board!” Tony snaps, as he roots around for his missing phone.

That wakes up Steve, who – with unerring memory – manages to quickly find Tony’s phone which had fallen into one of his shoes and been kicked under the bed. He tosses it to Tony, who calls Happy, telling him he’ll be down in five minutes and to have the engine running.

There’s no time to make it back to the penthouse to dress and properly prepare for his meeting, so he’ll just have to go as is: in a wrinkled suit over a too-big plaid button-up. It’s not the worst he’s ever looked, but it leaves much to be desired. He’ll just have to dazzle them with his presentation…

…That he never got around to finishing last night. Because he had thought rediscovering what Steve’s dick tastes like was a better use of his time. He was right of course, but now his CEO is going to extract the price of that tidbit of knowledge from his hide.

He’s in the bathroom, furiously brushing his teeth with a spare manual toothbrush from the two-pack Steve had recently purchased.

“You know…” Steve isn’t quite looking at Tony as he leans against the door jamb with enviable ease. “You should seriously consider maybe leaving a few outfits here if this is going to keep happening.”

Tony spits into the sink. He has no time to flip out over the implications of that suggestion. “I’ll think about it,” he says, and that’s the best Steve is going to get.

For now.

Steve frowns at his reflection.

“That’s not a no,” Tony says defensively. “It’s a maybe.” A soft yes actually, but again, he has no time to get into it. He glances at his watch.

Two minutes should be enough to get downstairs.

Maybe if Steve lived a little closer to the office, like in his penthou–

Nope! Absolutely not. That’s way too soon. The fact that they worked together is already bad enough, but if they moved in together, it will be an unmitigated disaster.

“Well, at least you now have a toothbrush here,” Steve points out, a smile alighting his ridiculously handsome face.

Probably.

Tony would have to put a pin on it and revisit the issue later.

* * *

Tony spends the commute on his mini holographic touchscreen, trying to complete his presentation on their latest line of green energy projects he planned to launch the following fall quarter. It’s not perfect, but since when did the board care about the specifics when the bottom line proved lucrative?

“Looking good, J. Now send it to Ms. Potts,” he orders just as they pull up to the Tower.

“Right away, sir,” The AI states as it carries out his directives. “If I may, you have a” –there's a slight hesitation– “a spot on your neck.”

Tony feels around, quickly locating the hickey before hiking up the collar of Steve’s shirt to hide it. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“It’s a question I often ask myself” is the bland reply.

Pepper is not nearly as understanding.

“You were supposed to send me the presentation last night,” she says impatiently, looking up from her tablet. “And what are you wearing?”

Tony shuffles in place. “Look, Pep, we could get into a big elaborate lie about where I was and who I was with and what we were doing, but the truth is…” he looks down at his feet. It’s way too early for this. He’s still tired, has a headache, and hadn’t even had time to get his morning coffee. And is he… he’s wearing Steve’s indoor slippers. Christ; he’s a mess. “The truth is that I stayed up all night working on my demo for the presentation and… uh… J. ate my homework?”

There’s a soft harrumph in his earpiece. He’s going to be hearing about that from J. when this is all over.

Unfortunately, the woman sounds unconvinced. “J.A.R.V.I.S. – your AI – he ate your homework.”

“…”

“Okay, whatever,” Pepper has no time for excuses, poor as they are. She is already handing him a black garment bag and a pair of dress shoes. “Splash some water on your face and get dressed.”

“How did you…”

“I was your PA for years. It taught me to always keep spares ready. Just in case.”

Tony thinks that might say something unkind about how easily (and often) he can become unraveled, but that’s something to contemplate another time. Now, he has to get dressed and plaster on the good old Stark charm for the board.

“I’ll have my assistant bring you a coffee,” she says as she shoos him towards her office with an ensuite bathroom.

Pepper is a godsend.

Public speaking comes as easy as breathing to one such as Tony Stark. And so when he emerges later, dressed and properly caffeinated, Tony steps up to the conference room doors, straightens his tie, and crosses the threshold, prepared to give the best presentation of his life.


End file.
